


Unchained

by sweptawaybayou



Category: Angel: the Series, Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweptawaybayou/pseuds/sweptawaybayou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>From the dim light in the greyness, </i>
  <br/>
  <i>the aim of the soul tends to miss.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Then the clouds catch fire and the oceans pitch.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>We're made for the moments like this.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>beta by lostakasha</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unchained

Angel had passed through the city perhaps a dozen times. Noticed as it grew and changed and aged with a kind of detachment that was reserved for those things that really don’t matter. It was just one more place to hide from the sun when he traveled from LA to New York, deferring to the still powerful draw of driving alone, instead of using the new option of being flown in a Wolfram and Hart jet.

He remembered the first time he noticed the man. Unable to sleep one night and it was too late to drive. He’d found himself walking crowded streets, jostled by men and women that seemed to be celebrating sexuality. Freedom of expression and the ability to kiss in public. Kiss and dance and grope.

Angel leaned against the pole of a street light that was decorated in multicolored ribbons, a rainbow flag rippled above his head in the soft, warm spring breeze. He tried to not compare the festivities with all the other times he’d watched sections of humanity try to express their individuality. And watched them beaten down, left bleeding in the gutter. Sometimes trodden and bled by his own hand.

Angel didn’t spend a lot of time on that particular memory.

Instead, he faded into the background. He watched the revelry with amusement, nursing a watery domestic bottle of beer. Completely content to do nothing more than that … until Angel saw _him_.

Tall and lean and walking as if he owned the street, the city, the state, the fucking world. Hair falling over his forehead, T-shirt stuck to his chest. Tight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination. Light hazel eyes that didn’t miss anything and Angel knew immediately that this man was celebrating nothing. That he didn’t give a shit about the parades, the banners, TV crews that were filming the drag queens, the fireworks and the feather boas.

He walked close enough to catch the man’s scent. Sweat and sex in the air and he didn’t pretend not to see that he was also being watched by the prey. Marked and remembered and then dismissed when Angel kept going.

~~

Four months passed before Angel drove through Pittsburgh again. Checked into his hotel room after ten, walked down Liberty Avenue at midnight. It wasn’t as crowded this time and Angel could cruise without being jostled. Fade without being noticed. Or, at least, not _as_ noticed.

He caught the marked scent on a man that had the smile and the eyes of a boy and followed him to a club. Private, of course, but a couple hundred-dollar bills put in the doorman’s hand brought him into the neon and glitter and pounding music. Into the swirl of flesh, alcohol and drug flavored air around him.

Angel checked his coat at the door. He moved through the crowd, felt stares sliding over the black satin shirt on his chest and shoulders and arms. Felt the more immediate touch of hot palms and groping fingers over the summer silk blend that covered his ass and thighs. His body warmed to match the temperature and even though he’d emptied the heated thermos of blood in his hotel room, the demon inside recognized pounding pulses and bared necks and humans that wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at offering themselves. Smooth, strong wrists, damp, trembling inner thighs. Tilted heads and arched hips. Want, take, have.

If Angel had been a younger vampire, he wouldn’t have been able to keep his mind on what he truly wanted. If he didn’t have his soul, this club would’ve been the perfect hunting ground. Every single one of these men that dared to reach out and touch him, offer him drinks, ask him to dance, hold up a joint or a vial or a pill marked with an ‘X’ would’ve been on their knees, bleeding. Begging. Dying.

Angel stood on a catwalk and finally found what he’d been looking for. Standing by the bar below him, surrounded by other men and one in particular who was showing the signs of ownership, of belonging. Angel watched them, a side of his mouth curled. He couldn’t deny the attraction. He was reminded of Lindsey.

Pretty blonde boy. Angel could taste him from here. Fresh and young, long eyelashes. Cheek and chin stubble that was still soft instead of coarse with age. And the full, wet lips of a woman, all over the mind and body of a man.

But this was not his quarry, not the purpose Angel was here.

And that reason was staring back up at him. Crystal clear eyes, lips curved into a smile and Angel knew he was recognized, remembered. He felt the rush of lust slide through his body, the fantasy of being alive. He watched as the tall man left his friends and lovers at the bar and made his way up the iron stairs to where Angel waited.

Grey silk and black denim. Sharp scents of tobacco and other men and under it all was what Angel had marked that night on the street. Pure, unadulterated desire.

They stood next to each other, forearms resting on the railing. Close enough to touch, close enough that Angel’s body responded to the proximity. His cock hardening, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip. Angel turned, opened himself up to the other man, facing him.

“Like what you see?”

Even his voice was dark with resonating passion and Angel nodded.

“Tell me your name.”

“Brian. And you?”

“Angel.”

Smirk. Laugh. Fingers as long as his reached out and touched Angel’s chest feather light.

“Yes. Of course you are.”

Brian’s head tilted down, his eyes closed and opened in a slow blink.

“Wanna follow me to the back room?”

Angel looked in the direction of Brian’s offer and inhaled deeply. Raw sex, drugs. Concrete and come and the plastic smell of lube and condoms.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not there.”

Angel felt Brian mentally undress him and saw his smile grow wider.

“Not some random fuck, are you? Come on.”

~~

And this was what Angel had been looking for, what he needed. Something anonymous and something intense with someone that wouldn’t automatically fold and bend and beg. With someone beautiful, someone that knew the rush and understood the value of intimacy.

They still hadn’t touched. They stood in Brian’s apartment, watching each other with mirroring stares. Fingers slowly unbuttoned shirts, shoes toed off. Pants slithered down long thighs to end up pooled on the thick, shining varnish of the hard wood floor.

It was silent as they circled. Eardrums still pounding from the assault of noise at the club to this sudden quiet. Angel followed Brian up to a wide, low bed and crawled on it. Baseboard to headboard. Blue neon shining down on his skin, making the alabaster match the tanned flesh of the man that moved up behind him. Angel slid his knees wide, looked over his shoulder. Watching as Brian bent down, feeling the mattress shift and still they hadn’t touched.

Brian moved over him, stretched out. Knees between his, breath hot as it came in bursts along Angel’s spine to his shoulders. Heat from Brian’s chest flowed in waves over Angel’s back and when Brian finally spoke, Angel had to bite down on his tongue. Swallow down the blood that mixed with saliva in his mouth.

“Turn over.”

Angel did.

He rolled to his back, keeping his arms above his head. Fingers pressed into wood, legs spread wide and Brian came back down over him. Hands and knees above him. Angel took in the sight. Long, lean, sweat glistening blue and gold and his eyes burnt into Angel’s head. Into his mind.

“Ask for it, pretty Angel.”

Wood creaked as Angel’s hands tightened around the low headboard.

“Ask for it.”

“I can’t.”

Angel watched as Brian dipped his head. Saw the shadow of his spine as he leaned close and breathed all the way down Angel’s chest to his cock. Hot, wet air curled around Angel’s skin and he moaned, fought to keep his hips still. Fighting the urge to arch up and push his cock through those perfect lips, into that perfect heat.

“You want this. You want me.”

“I do … I do … I want…” Angel growled. Closing his eyes to hide just _how_ much he wanted Brian.

“Then tell me.” Brian’s voice coiled through Angel. Left him gasping as if he actually needed the oxygen in his lungs. “Ask me.”

Angel trembled, a hard shudder tried to force its way free of him. He opened his eyes and could only offer up a fleeting hope that the blue would hide the yellow that he knew had to be there, flecked in the brown. He could feel his incisors sharpen and he made his legs spread wider. Bent his knees and dug his heels into the mattress.

Brian looked down at him. Calm covered his face, but Angel could feel the passion. Feel it soak the air around them, feel it make everything slower and hotter and harder. Taste it on his tongue when he licked his lips and left a smear of red that looked black under the blue light.

“I want it. I want you.”

Brian nodded. A strand of bangs fell over his eyes. He ripped open a condom and rolled it on his cock. Head to base. He reached over Angel once again and brought back a tube of lubricant, popped the cap and coated the fingers of his left hand.

“What do you want, Angel?”

“I want … I want you … to kiss me.”

“I don’t. I can’t.”

Angel saw the possessive little blonde boy at the bar in his mind and he could not contain the violence that colored his voice when he spoke again. He didn’t even try. His body pulled taut. His will at war with his very nature.

“Then fuck me.”

Wet lips on his cock. Slick fingers slid into him. Angel arched, pushed deeper into Brian’s throat. Felt the tug of suction, the soft pressure of tongue and the scrape of teeth. His arms cramped and his legs shook. Brian’s fingers teased in and out of him. Pushed and breached and curled and rubbed right over that fucking sweet spot inside until Angel gave up on relaxing and opening and started clenching tighter and tighter. Brian’s head bobbed. His hair soft as it brushed the inside of Angel’s thighs and Angel growled, vibrated on the bed. Coming off the mattress and thrusting up into Brian’s mouth. At the absolute end of his patience because it had been so very, very long.

“Fuck me, Brian. Fuck me now or get the hell off.”

Angel heard soft laughter, felt the cooler flow of breath on his wet cock as Brian lifted his head and looked straight up, right back at him.

“I’ll fuck you. When I’m ready.”

His voice was quiet, but Angel caught the glint in his eyes. That look, that singular look that meant there was something in Angel’s face, something in the tense, marble of his body … something there that always tipped the balance. No matter who Angel was with, with the exception of Spike. Because Spike liked it when they fought, when they beat each other bloody and there were fresh bruises to press fingers into and over. But Spike was a vampire, Spike was family and this man was … so fucking alive.

So fucking hot.

He left Angel’s cock with a lick and a bite. Kissed his way back up Angel’s chest and just as his lips reached Angel’s throat and the possibility of feeling no pulse, Angel lifted his hips again. Rubbed his cock against Brian’s and snapped his teeth together beside Brian’s ear.

“Ready now?”

One hand down, positioning and holding and there was that _moment_. That moment when time seemed to stop and Angel could feel every cell in his body shifting, reacting. He could feel the demon tear at his skin from the inside and he fought it down. Forced it down, opened his legs wider. Kicked his heels into the small of Brian’s back and pulled him deeper. And it felt so fucking good. Burn and stretch and slide of sweat slicked chest to his.

“Yes, Jesus … yes. Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

Angel would have replied, if he could’ve done anything but whine and wrap his arms and legs around the man on top of him. Hold Brian deep and hard and match each thrust and twist with one of his own. Moving so that his cock bumped and rubbed along Brian’s abdomen, so that his balls were crushed and Angel’s whimper turned to a moan and a growl and then a roar as his body took over and his mind let go.

~~

Four hours later Angel sat, back against the wall. Neon blue still glowing down over him as he smoked one of Brian’s cigarettes. Sheets pooled around his thighs, the bed’s comforter on the floor. Brian was stretched out beside him, holding his hand up when he wanted a drag. 

Angel could see the sky lightening, even though it might look the same to anyone else. It was time to go and he found himself wanting to stay. Wanting to return.

First time for everything.

They hadn’t exchanged anything more meaningful than first names. They hadn’t given anything but the most delicate of trust and the taste of Brian’s third orgasm still rolled on Angel’s tongue as he crushed the cigarette and slid out of the bed.

He dressed, watching as Brian walked naked through his kitchen. Take a bottle of water from the refrigerator and offered another before moving to stand beside the door. Angel shook his head, pulled his leather coat over his shoulders and slid his feet into his shoes.

“You know where I live now.”

“Yes.”

“You will come back again.”

Angel smiled, acted as if he was reaching for the door, but then changed that motion to standing in front of Brian. Pushing him back against the metal. Hands over his shoulders, hip to hip, groin to groin. Lips just a breath apart.

Angel licked a circle around Brian’s mouth with the tip of his tongue and stared into the mix of green and brown and gold. It only took a second before Brian was kissing him. Devouring Angel’s mouth, teeth and lips and tongue and they tasted of each other. Angel inhaled and he found that he liked the smell of his own sex on this man. 

“Yes.”

 

~Fin

 

*lyrics from 'Moments Like This' by Alison Krauss


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